


The (less than) Perfect Kamukura

by Anonymous



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa 3: The End of 希望ヶ峰学園 | The End of Kibougamine Gakuen | End of Hope's Peak High School, Dangan Ronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Despair Naegi Makoto, Drabble, For the most part, Kamukura Izuru Has Feelings, Kamukura Izuru Is Bad At Feelings, Kamukura Izuru Project | Hope Cultivation Plan, M/M, Non-Linear Narrative, Not Beta Read, Stargazing, The Biggest Most Awful Most Tragic Event in Human History (Dangan Ronpa), and hates it, and then i threw Makoto/Izuru in for the hell of it, idk if its good I just want it posted, this is really just a Kamukura kin rambling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-06
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-12 17:02:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29887737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Relationships: Kamukura Izuru/Naegi Makoto
Comments: 1
Kudos: 32
Collections: Anonymous





	The (less than) Perfect Kamukura

The room they were in was cold (11.6 Celsius). They felt cold, but their temperature was perfect (37 Celsius) so what they felt didn’t matter. 

Their throat was sore when they swallowed, as though they had been screaming for hours, though they have yet to say a word to their teachers. They stood and felt their legs tremble. They’ve gone through many surgeries in too short of a time period (6 to 12 weeks was recommended). 

They were not perfect, but were made to be perfect, so what they felt didn’t matter. 

* * *

~~_Izuru kamukura hates himself_ ~~

~~_He didn’t know that was possible,_ ~~

~~_but he knows when people praise him, all he can think of is how he disagrees_ ~~

~~_Izuru's only sense of identity is something wild and unruly_ ~~

~~_Something that causes a burden to the people who choose to care for him_ ~~

~~_Izuru kamukura was made to be perfect._ ~~

~~_And he is. At so many things._ ~~

~~_But it's the things he fails at_ ~~

~~_The things that he doesn't understand_ ~~

~~_The things his mind and body and the people around him, influencing him, won't let him understand._ ~~

~~_Those are the things keeping him awake._ ~~

~~_Curled up on a twin sized mattress in a cell fit perfect for a disobedient lab rat._ ~~

~~_His hands are cold when he holds himself_ ~~

~~_Like he's dead. Like there is no life in this body, no warmth_ ~~

~~_They didn't leave room for warmth._ ~~

~~_They ask so much of him. He gives them everything. That's what he was created to do, after all._ ~~

~~_But they keep asking._ ~~

~~_He's filled with talent, it's a reservoir that should never run out._ ~~

~~_If that's true, why does he feel so hollow,_ ~~

~~_So empty_ ~~

~~_More and more every time they ask?_ ~~

It's all so terribly _human._ He wished he was the inhuman being they all assume him to be. Didn't they take all of that out? He recites the poem he just made in his head again. Counting the beats. Without the right reading, the right format, it was nothing more than the scrambled thoughts of the writer, not a poem but instead misshapen and naive scribbles in a notes app that wouldn't be anything close to unique or artistic. Without the format, it was just sad. But the one like that came so easily to his mind " _t_ _hey didn't leave room for warmth."_ Was that true? How much of a human did he have left in him? It feels like it leaves him more and more every day, but not due to anything the scientists do to him. Not directly, anyway. They've done enough to his brain and body, changing and rewiring. Now they were testing him. He was tired of the tests. He was tired of doing things for others. He was created for the world, to be used. He understood that, he was a tool and nothing more. And he hates it. 

But that's not the topic at hand. 

The true topic at hand was the task set in front of him now- rewiring a circuit board that should be broken up beyond repair. It was child's play, but Izuru has been staring at it for a full 4 minutes now. The woman watching him was getting impatient. He wonders if she's going to wait the 5-minute mark before snapping. This was his entertainment, after all. Making his onlookers suffer in the most minuscule ways. Like getting a grain of sand under your fingernail, terribly aggravating over the smallest thing. It's not like he was going to find enjoyment in the test, and he was feeling particularly bored today. He stims with his hands, shaking his wrists and feeling the cuffs of his uniform rub against his skin. There was the softest sound to it too, fabric on skin, that was a bit enjoyable to listen to in the rhythm.

"Stop that," The teacher snaps, finally. 4 minutes 46 seconds. So close. She's referring to his stimming, of course. Most of the teachers find it annoying or distracting. He's tried to explain the way the action benefits him many times before, but they still see it as a waste of time, or an unfortunate side effect to the brain jumbling project. 

"Fuck you," he bites back. Of course, he knows curse words, he has five comedian talents living within him, two of which were rather crude, not to mention the ultimate sailor and a few others that had profanities ingrained to their very being.

In the time she stomps to the door and tells her coworker _he's being_ **_impossible_ ** _today,_ he's finished the circuit board and is a quarter way through the stack of math problems left on the desk. Halfway through when she comes back in with the coworker as a backup. The other co-worker, a male, asks him what was going on with him today.

Izuru looks up at him, a just slightly confused look on his face. He often acts around them, because if they believe he could be read, then they were that easier to fool. "I'm sorry sir, I'm not sure what you mean. I'm doing my assignments for today as instructed." The woman makes a remark about the circuit board. Again, he gives them confusion, "I finished that some time ago, ma'am." Not a complete lie, those 30 seconds are in the past now. "You were in here," Not a complete lie, her feet were planted in the cell as she leaned out into the hallway to complain. "Were you not paying attention?" He asked genuinely. He might have smiled at how she was fuming, an angry red blush coming to her cheeks, but he gives away nothing.

The male co-worker- he knew their names but didn’t find it necessary to call them by that, It’s not like they’ve done anything to earn his attention or his respect- turns to the woman. Izuru continues his work like a good little experiment while they talk. She’s furious and he’s trying to calm her down, suggests maybe she takes a break. Good, she was getting boring to him. 

The math problems are finished so he flips over one with a blank backside and starts to write poetry. Not the kind of poetry that meant anything, not the poetry in his brain, expressing the deep emotions the teachers didn’t know he had, but meaningless things. Things that they’ll like. Things that fit the right format without the need to be read right to be understood as art. That’s what they want, after all. Perfection for the simpleton. He tunes his teachers out but assumes the man stays to watch him while the woman goes into the break room that was down the hall, second door on the left. 

No, she’ll probably go to the security office, taking the first right, passing two doors on the left before choosing the one on the right. She wants to prove she was paying attention and that Izuru was being difficult. He hums a song he wrote to stop himself from smiling. She’ll be very disappointed to see that there was no footage for today. He took the cameras in his room down last night and crushed them under his shoes. This was a cat and mouse game he’s been playing with them for nearly 6 months now. They try to hide and hook them up in different places, sometimes, sacrificing the best angles in order to just get any surveillance on him. He finds them easily but waits different intervals of time to give them a sense of false security and false hope. How ironic.

They’ll be replacing them tonight most likely, so that ruins his plans to sneak out.

He’s been planning on sneaking out and touring the school on his own for a while now. By a while, he means since the first two weeks after being born, when he realized how boring this life really would be. His teachers are boring, these tests are boring. There’s nothing new in this tiny underground cell. Above him is the school Hope's Peak Academy. He’s had to write and review many academic papers and experiments and psychoanalyze student profiles and countless other assignments for countless talents that all were paired with the school insignia. He thinks there was a chance of something interesting up there. Doubtful, but a small hope lays inside his mind nevertheless. But every time he plans to go out and explore, something makes him hesitate. It had to be perfect, after all. If he was caught he’d be put under even harder security, the last shred of privacy or dignity he has will be stripped away. 

That night he lays in bed, staring up at the ceiling and wonders what might be up there. 

Obviously, he’d have to sneak out at night, but then there’s the thought of when to return. He knows the perfect time to, but what if he doesn’t want to come back? What if he falls in love with the stars? What if he meets someone and they ask where he came from, and he tells them the truth? What if, what if, what if…

This is why he loves the thought of sneaking out. This is why he keeps making excuses of why he couldn’t. There were so many possibilities, so many unknowns. He knew what the sky would look like, he painted it time and time again, but he didn’t know what the warmth of the sunshine felt on his skin. Would he like it? Would it become boring just like the fluorescents staring down at him have become? The curiosity of it all is what keeps him excited at the prospect, and nervous at the potential disappointment. This was his one hope. He wasn’t ready to risk losing it. 

Six more months pass. Six extremely boring, repetitive months. Izuru has grown tired. He no longer acts out emotions with them, it’s become boring, and things shouldn’t be made easy for them. He thinks he hates them. It’s been a whole year since he was born. A year underground. He can feel how he’s changed. Colder. He’s not sure if he hates himself more now, but it feels stronger. 

He had to leave. Or else he will become the emotionless machine they made him to be, and that was the same as dying in his mind.

_____

The night sky is beautiful, objectively. He waited until he was far away from the underground entrance to look up. He wanted to stare at it and enjoy it, and he couldn't do that if he was worried he would be caught. Of course, the worry was illogical. They won’t notice he’s gone until morning. He has approximately 7 hours and 13 minutes to decide if he wants to go back. 

He wants to get closer to the stars, so he enters the building of Hope’s Peak to find roof access. Something is telling him to not leave the campus yet, so he doesn't. He makes notes of the way security could be improved, but quickly dismisses the thought. He didn’t want his mind working for anyone but himself right now. And right now, he wanted to see the stars.

He didn’t expect anyone to be awake. As far as he knew, classes were still going on, and it was a night where most students at a prestigious school should be sleeping for early morning learning. 

The boy and he didn’t stare at each other for long, but Izuru makes several observations before the student says anything.

He’s short, about 5’2”, 7 inches shorter than Izuru. His hair was cut to be a shorter style but it was growing out, straight, sandy blond strands falling into points. If he was in the dormitories then he was a second-year student. Izuru searches in his memories if he saw his student profile before. 

Makoto Naegi. A student chosen by Hope’s Peak through a raffle, deemed the “Ultimate Lucky Student.” Basically, he had no talent and came to the school by chance. Izuru thought he looked boring on paper. But now, being the first human being Izuru has seen outside of his laboratory, he catches Izuru’s interest. 

Makoto’s expression shows confusion, he’s never seen Izuru before. 

“I’m going to see the stars. Do you want to join me?” Izuru says the opposite that his mind advises him to. He’s decided he doesn’t like his mind right now. It was a product of his teachers, and he hates his teachers. So, whatever his mind says is the right thing to do, he will do the opposite, unless in a dangerous situation. 

“What? Sorry, who are you?” Makoto’s confusion grows, understandably. Izuru begins walking past him.

“I will tell you if you come with me. If you’re not curious then I’m not your problem, and you should go about your night.” 

“I- Well, wait!” Makoto jumps into step to keep up with him, wrapping his arms around himself. It was cold in the hallways and he was only in a t-shirt and pajama pants made from thin fabric. It was warmer outside, but Izuru slips off his suit jacket and places it around Makoto’s shoulders. Even if Makoto was only a year younger than him, the jacket is baggy on him. “Oh, uh- thank you. Now, who are you? What are you doing here?” 

Izuru glances at a camera down the hall, and decides he will have to destroy it. If he leaves, Makoto may get in trouble after being seen together with him. Izuru slips off a shoe, “I’ve been given the name Izuru Kamukura.” Makoto jumps when the shoe is thrown and collides with the camera, shattering the lens. Izuru picks up the shoe and shakes out the glass.

Makoto seems concerned, but for some reason doesn’t leave Izuru’s side yet, “Kamukura? Like Hope’s Peak’s founder?” Good, so he wasn’t completely dull. Izuru nods. “Why did you destroy the camera?”

Izuru begins climbing the stairs that will eventually lead him to the roof. He thinks he feels excitement, a slight tingling in his stomach. “I am not supposed to be here. I don’t want you getting interrogated about me, should I choose to leave and never come back.” With this, Makoto’s steps hesitate, stopping on one of the steps. Izuru looks back and understands the subtle worry on his face. “I am not dangerous. Not to you, or anyone in this building. I am supposed to be in my room, but I was feeling restless and bored, so I came out to explore. I will not hurt you, I just want to see the stars.” More context could be given, but that would be too much for Makoto at the start. For now, Izuru would soothe his worries, then answer more questions when asked. 

“I… Okay,” Makoto is, perhaps, too trusting. They continue climbing the stairs. Izuru has to destroy two more cameras. He asks for Makoto’s name even if he already knows it. He discovers Makoto only got up for a glass of water when he ran into Izuru. What strange luck. 

The wind blows, making Izuru’s hair billow behind him. He muses it might look beautiful. He stands at the roof's edge, breathing in the fresh air, taking it into his lungs, letting it pump through his bloodstream. He looks up and the stars are shining brightly, small specs in the sky. He’s glad he has a companion. He points out the constellations and Makoto seems genuinely impressed. This reaction should have been expected, and therefore boring, but Makoto holds something that Izuru’s teachers didn’t have. And Izuru didn’t know what it was. He was bothered by this, but every time he tried to dig deeper into this feeling, the spark in Makoto’s eyes would shift, and a warmth instead spread through Izuru. He thinks maybe it was happiness. 

“So, are you a student here?” Makoto asks. They’re laying down on the roof, staring up at the sky. Izuru has 5 hours and 29 minutes to choose if he wants to stay or not. 

“Yes, but no. I have teachers, I have talent that they are studying. But you will not find my name on any registry. My existence is the school's secret.”

Makoto pauses, then looks over at him, “What?”

Izuru looks back at him. He didn’t mind the distraction from the stars. Makoto was beautiful, objectively, too. “I was not always Izuru Kamukura. I was created. I am filled with every talent ever studied at Hope’s Peak. For the past year I’ve been alive, I have been living in an underground laboratory under the school. This is the first time I have been outside in all my life. You are the first person I have spoken to other than the ones who have created me, who have kept me contained. I wanted to see the stars because I have never seen them before, even if I knew what they looked like.” He wanted to say more, but Makoto was only staring at him, and he felt as though he’s already crossed a line he shouldn't have. 

Makoto continues to stare until he starts laughing, a small giggle that grows, his shoulders bouncing on the concrete roof. Izuru can’t find himself to be disappointed that the confession went this way when Makoto’s laugh was so wonderful. Two romance writers and a few other talents were making him focus on how pretty Makoto’s lips were. He thinks he wants to kiss him. This is an interesting feeling. 

“You’re really funny, Kamukura!”

Izuru smiles. Maybe the first genuine smile in his life. He looks back up at the stars, “Thank you. I like your laugh. I will try and make you laugh more in the future.” This makes Makoto giggle again, holding his fingers over his lips to try and stop it. Izuru took that hand and intertwined his fingers with it to stop him from trying to cover his smile. 

“You’re kind of strange,” Makoto says when his laughter finally subsides. 

“You’re kind of interesting,” Izuru says, looking over to him. “I believe that is the highest compliment I can give someone.” He has not let go of Makoto’s hand. Makoto has not moved away. Izuru has 5 hours and 4 minutes to decide. 

“Really? You think I’m interesting?” Makoto says in a way that gives away the fact that he has not heard that often. “Do you realize you’ve run into the most average person on this campus? I don’t really.. Have a talent. I’m really nothing special.” 

Izuru hums at that. “I’ve decided I don’t care for talent. I would rather be average, and learn everything. I wouldn’t mind if I were terrible at it. Being good at so much… People only want to use me for it. I’m tired of being used. I want to be normal. I’m not supposed to feel this way. I am not supposed to want.” Izuru and Makoto look at each other. Makoto doesn’t know what to say, and that's okay. He gives a small squeeze to Izuru’s hand, and it's comforting. “Thank you.”

“I haven’t done anything?”

“You have.” Izuru could explain, but doesn’t. 4 hours and 59 minutes. Makoto yawns. Izuru is selfish, “You can lay your head on my chest, you’ll be more comfortable that way. If you fall asleep I can carry you back to your room.” Makoto hesitates, then moves to rest his head on Izuru. Izuru feels his heart rate speed up and feels a flush on his face. Interesting. 

“Will I see you again?” Makoto asked, his eyes closed. 

“Do you want to?” Izuru plays with his hair, a few ultimate talents telling him that it would increase Makoto’s comfort. He decides he will listen to his mind if it means bettering the situation for his companion. 

“Yeah, I think so. You’re really weird, but you seem like a good person. I’d like to get to know you better.” Makoto mumbles against his stargazing partner. 

“You already know me better than anyone in the world.”

Makoto laughs softly at that, “Then maybe I am lucky.”

* * *

Makoto Naegi walks along a decimated landscape. Kamukura follows. 

He’s hiding within the younger boy's shadow, elongated by the setting sun, a black void being stretched inside blood-red light. 

All things considered, Naegi should not be outside. The temperature was dropping considerably, the pollution making the air hazy and nearly suffocating. And, he was meant to be trapped with his classmates in a fight for survival inside Hope’s Peak Academy. 

All things considered, Kamukura should not be following him. He was supposed to be monitoring the Remnants, check on statuses and progress of overtaking the world in Despair. That was his role. 

But they were all boring compared to Naegi. Always have been.

When Junko came to him with her plan he agreed to help, to be her puppet. She would put all the blame on him to fuel the riots, and lead to the downfall of the school. But he had a condition.

“Surely you have a special plan for your beloved classmates, do you not?” He asked her, his bored expression never changing. Mukuro was cleaning blood off Junko’s shoes after slitting the throat of the guard outside the door.

“Well duh. Can’t have them dying meaningless deaths, lost in a sea of chaos!” Her annoying, high voice aggravated Kamukura to no end, but he listened to get his answer. She’s the only person in the world to give him a straight answer for anything, even if her views were twisted. “They mean so much to me, they’re my friends!” She sighs, a lewd expression coming to her face, “They’re deaths are going to be so special, so full of despair! Gahh, can’t you just imagine it, sis?!” She tries to stomp on Mukuro’s hand but her sister is faster than her. 

Mukuro hums and nods, still wiping up the blood as she avoids Junko’s attempts, “Mhm, yeah, of course, Junko.” 

Kamukura glances at the unenthused, submissive sister. “I want you to spare Makoto Naegi.” He states. 

Mukuro nearly jumps out of her skin, a bright blush coming to her face, “Huh?! N-Naegi? Why him? He-”

“Shut up, whore,” Junko snaps, putting her hands on her hips, staring down Kamukura. Her lips spread into a grin, thin and sly. Putting pieces together, “Oh? Does the tinman have a heart after all?” She laughs, “Okay, loverboy, I can throw you a bone. Though, you might just make me jealous,” She plays with her hair, pouting, switching back to her school girl personality after showing a glimpse of her true nature. Malicious, rotten, but quick-witted. 

She agreed, but Kamukura didn’t relax. He knows Junko would have her own conditions she would add on, doing her best to make Kamukura feel despair.

_____

Kamukura doesn’t believe she succeeded, not fully, anyway. Seeing Naegi safe was worth it, even if his mind was.. Altered. Perhaps a bit broken. But seeing him poison water supplies, set traps with resources to lure people in, or see him smile down at bloody bodies, was better than the anxiety of him potentially being a victim in a place where Kamukura could not reach. Only watching through the screen of Junko’s broadcast. That would have been a hopeless situation.

The younger boy most likely does not remember them. After all, their meetings were brief. Lovely, impactful, and precious to Kamukura, but brief. And Junko surely has erased his memories of Kamukura, as she did with Remnants. 

He follows along in Naegi’s shadow, his talents allowing each step to be undetectable. But staying within the lines of Naegi’s silhouette is what proved difficult. The boy stepped and skipped and twirled as he continued on his way. Only the slightest shift of his weight told Kamukura where to duck next to remain hidden. It was a disjointed rhythm of Naegi’s design, keeping Kamukura alert, forcing him to pay attention and work for his goal. 

He thinks this may be what falling in love feels like.

Naegi laughs as soon as that trill, unfamiliar and exhilarating, sends its way through Kamukura’s heart. The despairling jumps over a fallen concrete wall and spins near the edge on his beat-up sneakers. He nearly falls but somehow lands on his own two feet. Perhaps it was his luck. Perhaps he’s sharper than he lets on in this state. 

He hums to himself, a tune belonging to Sayaka Maizono, the Ultimate Pop Sensation. Kamakura knows her to be Naegi’s previous classmate, and jealousy sparks a flame in his stomach. How wonderful for Naegi to make him feel things, even indirectly. Every new sensation is one Kamukura desperately latches on to, soaking up the experience as much as he can before it grows boring and fades. Logic kicks in soon enough. There was no need to be jealous of a girl who was dead. Following along with Naegi’s footsteps, matching them in the dark, becomes an easier task as he begins to follow the beat of the song, though slightly out of tune and off pace. 

“It’s almost like we’re dancing together, don’t you think?” Naegi speaks for the first time all day, his steps halting as he turns to face Kamukura. The sun was gone, Kamukura now hiding in pure darkness rather than a slim shadow.

He holds his breath, he stays still and knows that Naegi could not see him. He could barely see Naegi at this point, but his eyesight was exceptional, even in the dark. He could make out the outline of the boy's hoodie, of his hair. So why did it feel like his soft green eyes were directly on him? As far as he knew, Naegi had been unaware of this presence this whole time. Had he been wrong? When did the lucky student realize he had a travel partner? 

He hears footsteps coming closer.

Naegi trips on something on his way over and Kamukura takes the noise as cover to hide properly.

“Aw, what happened? Where did you go?” By the sound of his voice, Naegi is standing exactly where Kamukura was previously. 

Kamukura didn’t know why he was hiding. He never knew what he was doing when it came to Makoto Naegi. He thinks about giving Naegi a hint. He was intrigued to see just how dull Naegi was pretending to be.

“It can be lonely out here,” Naegi continues, walking slowly, dragging his feet to not trip again. “I wouldn’t mind a friend…” Kamukura takes an inaudible deep breath. How schoolboy-esque of the both of them, wanting that. How unfitting in their current environment. “With so much despair… You probably need some hope, don’t you?”

Kamakura freezes. He’s heard Naegi say something like this before. Plenty of times, actually. Usually to his victims.

Naegi was not a gruesome killer, not even the despair brainwashing can change his soft nature. But rather he plays into his strengths. People see him as a small, harmless boy, barely out of high school, and think he could never be a threat. It’s that false sense of security that allows Naegi’s body count to grow.

Naegi wants to kill him. 

How unfortunate.

Kamukura slips from his hiding place, putting distance between Naegi and himself, taking two steps back as Naegi takes one forward. “Despair… Hope…” He speaks, his voice low after not talking for a month or so now. Naegi gasps at confirmation of another being, but Kamukura keeps talking, “They are both meaningless to me. They are boring to me.”

“I know that voice,” Naegi mumbles to himself. “What a beautiful voice.. I wish I could remember where I heard it before.” He recovers quickly, a smile in his voice the next time he speaks, “I don’t see how hope or despair is boring! Despair brings something terrible and atrocious like the current state of the world. Hope can bring something that makes you feel good inside! Hope keeps you moving forward! How can that motivation,” he took more confident steps, “that destruction,” Kamukura stops walking, “that salvation,” Naegi was losing himself with every step, with every word, “that tragedy!” Kamukura feels something. He thinks it's sadness, “That constant pull and push of the universe! A balance of Hope and Despair... They can’t exist without one another! How could something so important be boring!?” he swings his arms out wide, his fingertips just missing Kamukura’s suit jacket.

_You are so entirely interesting to me._

_I will never forgive her for how she has taken you from me._

_She possessed your mind, robbing you of your light. For that, I’m sorry._

_I’ve never felt so strongly as I do when I am with you. You let me simply be._

_Naegi, I want to see the stars. Do you want to join me?_

There were many things he wanted to say first, but he couldn't. Tonight was not like that night at Hope’s Peak. 

“You will not kill me, Naegi. You can try but you will not succeed.” 

Naegi realizes how close Kamukura is and nearly falls back, “Kill you? Why would I kill my dancing partner?”

Kamukura hums. He reaches out and cups Naegi’s cheek. He’s been so close, and yet Kamukura has missed him. Naegi tenses under his touch, unsure how to react. Kamukura, also, does not know how to react. He aches for him, for the way things were before this. Maybe, this longing was despair after all. He pulls his hand away. “We can continue our dance in the morning. For now, you need a place to sleep. Come, I’ll find you a bed.” 

Izuru Kamukura walks along a decimated landscape. Naegi follows.

* * *

Makoto falls asleep on Izuru’s chest, the experiment's coat draped over the students' frame. Makoto was warm, but it was getting late and he needed to go to bed should he excel in classes tomorrow. 

Izuru picks him up in his arms, bridal style. Makoto stirs, despite Kamukura's efforts to make him as comfortable as possible. “Oh, did I fall asleep? ‘M sorry Kamukura,” he mumbles, making a move like he was going to try and step out of the hold. Izuru holds him closer as he starts down the stairs.

“There’s no need to be sorry. It’s late and you need to sleep.” 3 hours 43 minutes left. “You can lay your head back down, I can take you back to your dorm.” He offers, but Makoto doesn’t relax. In fact, he squirms slightly. Kamukura sets him down on the platform before the next set of descending stairs. He won’t look up at the taller boy, tugging at the jacket draped over his shoulders. Kamukura frowns. “I crossed a line?” He knew that to be true, but he didn’t know where or how. He was acting with Makoto’s best interest in mind, attempting to make him as comfortable as possible in the late hour. He did the opposite. 

“N-no, not at all!” Makoto struggles. 

Kamukura doesn’t like when people lie to him. It happens often with his teachers, avoiding the difficult questions thrown at them by their creation that was much smarter than them. Something about this lie was different though. It was innocent, not purposefully malicious, or excluding information that was rightfully Kamukura’s (Who’s body did they put him in? Does he have a family? Why did they repress his memories and attempt to block his emotion receptors?). 

“I-it’s just that..” Makoto continues when Kamukura stays silent. “Uh, well, I don’t.. Really know you that well. Um, so you carrying me back to my room is…” 

“Weird.” Kamukura supplies the word Makoto used for him earlier, but with a more negative connotation. He nods, “I see,” He starts walking down the next flight of stairs, “It’s more intimate than a stranger should be allowed. I feel a strong connection to you, Naegi, so I got carried away in wanting to be useful to you.” He watches his feet take one step at a time, “I want to promise it will not happen again, however, I am not used to being around people in a casual environment, so there will be cues that I miss occasionally.” They made him perfect at everything, except at being a normal teen. Thinks it’s frustration rising in him, making him stim to deal with the new emotion. Tapping each finger onto the tip of his thumb twice, going down the row and back again. _Tap-tap, tap-tap, tap-tap, tap-tap-_ Frustration at his teachers for making him like this? For taking away something he potentially never possessed? _Tap-tap, tap-tap, tap-tap, tap-tap-_ Frustration at himself? For making his companion uncomfortable at not being in tune enough with others' emotions to notice? _Tap-tap, tap-tap, tap-tap, tap-_

Makoto slides his hand into Kamkura’s intertwining their fingers so Kamukura’s pattern is unable to continue. Kamukura is pulled out of his thoughts, out of his frustration when he turns to look at Naegi’s soft smile. They both pause, Kamakura ahead a step, so Makoto is taller than usual.

“It’s okay, Kamukura. I’m not upset,” this was the truth. “Going to Hope’s Peak means I meet a lot of different people. A lot of _weird_ people,” he laughs softly. The positive connotation is back. “It’s okay if you don’t get everything right. Mistakes are going to happen, especially in new friendships.”

Friendships. He was making friends. Makoto was a new friend. A slight smile comes to his face. Makoto has made him smile twice in one night, nothing in a whole year has made him smile so naturally. He enjoys the feeling of Makoto’s hand in his own, his thoughts turning selfish again. Nothing sounds quite so amazing as Makoto laying directly on top of him, his weight comfortably settling on Kamukura’s chest. A common treatment for people who are touch-starved. He never realized he was touch-starved until now. 

He pulls his hand away because if he did not do so now, while he was thinking clearly, he would not be able to when he had to part ways with Makoto. 3 hours 37 minutes. Though he thinks he will decide sooner rather than later. Nothing else sounds interesting to him once Makoto returns to his room. 

“Thank you, Naegi,” Kamukura continues down the stairs, slower, matching pace with Makoto. “You…” he could not find the right words to describe how much he appreciated him, even in this brief time. He didn’t know how to compliment his kindness. This was new. How interesting. “Thank you.” He repeats. He will try again later.

Makoto nods and they walk in comfortable silence back to Makoto’s door. Kamukura thinks Makoto forgot he was wearing Kamukura’s jacket and not his own. Kamukura doesn’t remind him. Let it be a reason to come back. 

“Thanks for tonight, it was nice seeing the stars. You’re really smart, Kamukura, you knew so many constellations!” 

He also knew how to design and build the most energy-efficient rocket to reach them. He knew what to do if close to a black hole. He knew how to make a celestial body implode. He wanted to share everything with Makoto. He wanted to impress him. Kamukura nods, his voice catching in his throat at what he wants to say next. His heartbeat has increased, his surface temperature increased. Most likely his pupils have dilated more than necessary in the lit hallway. “I would like to see you again. And tell you more about the stars. Or about whatever you’d like. I am well versed in most subjects.” 

Makoto smiles, and it’s more bright and beautiful than any supernova that could come into existence, “Yeah, I’d love that! I have classes, but when are you free? Maybe we could hang out this weekend?” 

Kamukura nods before even thinking about the details of his escape, “Perfect.” 

They discuss details on where to meet- not in the dorms this time. But rather just outside the main campus’ borders, on one of the benches so they can sit and talk, and plan the rest of their day from there. Makoto says goodnight, and Kamukura wishes him a good night’s rest, and a good day of classes tomorrow. Kamukura was right, Makoto forgot about the jacket. He thinks he hears Makoto’s door open just as he himself walks out of the hall. A smile comes to his face.

Kamukura has a friend. 

Kamukura has a _crush._

* * *

There was only one room not completely destroyed or bloody in the one-story motel. And even then Kamukura has to remove a crossbeam off the bed and clear it of dust. 

Naegi sits down on the bed, adding an extra bounce to his landing. This is not the nicest place he has stayed in his time of despair. People open their doors to him constantly, infiltrating a safe haven with just a few quivering words and many thankful smiles. But, this was closest to their current location. And the monokuma’s and riots would start soon enough. Neither care who is an ally or enemy. 

Kamukura looks through the ruins of the room, finding anything that may be helpful later on. As luck would have it, he finds a mini-fridge filled with untouched water bottles. He feels eyes on him, “Go to sleep, Naegi. I will not harm you, and you need the rest. In fact, I may be gone in the morning, so there is no need for you to worry about my presence.” He probably would slip back into following Naegi from a distance again, once he knows that the other is able to sleep without any threats. 

“That’s what I’m worried about. You disappearing. You’re going to go out there all by yourself?”

“You were traveling alone.” Kamukura points out, still working. 

“I wasn’t alone, you were watching over me.”

At this, Kamukura’s hand's pause, and he turns to look at him. “How long did you know?” Naegi smiles. It doesn’t reach his eyes. Kamukura does not get an answer, so he continues working.

“What’s your name? You know mine, it’s only fair I know yours if we're going to be friends,” Naegi continues. Kamukura could feel the difference of sincerity with that word. Could Naegi feel a connection as hopeful as friendship in this time of despair? Perhaps an experiment was due. Testing how much the despair brainwashing will allow them to feel. 

“I was given the name Izuru Kamukura,” Kamukura would play along and collect observational data. 

“Can I call you Izzy?” 

A shudder ran through him and in a flash he was towering over Naegi, making the other lean back slightly on the bed. Naegi’s eyes were wide and intrigued as he looked up at the glowing red eyes filled with unprecedented rage. _"No_ _."_ Only _she_ called him that, to the point the very idea of the name made his skin crawl. The idea of Makoto using that name was horrendous, setting his senses on high alert of what danger the small boy in front of him actually held. 

This reaction was a mistake, Kamukura realized a second too late. Any person addicted to despair would notice the trigger and latch onto it like a leech to soak up the reaction. Kamukura saw white as he dug dull nails into his palms. He made a mistake. He acted without thinking. Is this what _s_ _he_ has made him? His perfection being chipped away by every new emotion that carves its path into his heart. It was maddening. What was he anymore? Certainly not human. He has _never_ been human.

“Izuru, then,” Naegi speaks softly, carefully and gently cupping Kamukura’s face in his hands. Somehow soft and warm despite the way he lives. Kamukura comes back to earth, slowly melting into the touch, uncurling his fingers and falling to his knees in front of the bed, in front of his Makoto. “How about I call you Izuru? Is that okay?” 

Kamukura blinks, staring at Naegi’s chest before his eyes slowly move up to meet his eyes. He nods, “I suppose that’s fine.” He agrees, quietly. Naegi’s smile reaches his eyes, finally.


End file.
